Public diaper leaking

Scentus’s New Career

Scentus's New CareerHer mind utterly broken by extended training from the therapist, Scentus has been completely transformed from a working adult into a putrid pet skunkgirl. Now instead of answering calls she is content to simply fill diapers and stink up public parks.

Order and above text by Scentus

Draw by catmonkshiro

Source: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/32014974/

Yes someone sure seems to be very good when it comes to the new job the therapist have fix for here. She sure is one stinky skunk in this public park special whit that kind of very messy diaper.

Looks like someone have one very stinky diaper to change here. It sure going to take a couple of minutes to change this diaper.

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Piss your pants as a joke

Piss your pants as a jokeThey are real diapers, they’re just not made to handle a sudden full force blast from a full grown water type.

Draw and everything by tehcutepyro

Source: http://www.furaffinity.net/view/31289708/

Poor Buizel looks like his friend should have make the joke whit him whit a thicker diaper.

The diaper sure could not handle the massive flood that he decide to release into it :(

He sure have put himself in one special situation right now.

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Billy’s Fault Part 2

This story is written by Les Lea

One thing Liz wasn’t aware – Billy’s sodden nappy was not only down to her sabotage. He had, quite unknowingly, wet himself during the night and, had she checked him first before doing her ‘squeezy’ thing, would have noticed he was more than a little damp already. With the amount of liquid his make-do nappy then had to soak up it was no surprise it leaked all over the place.

He’d woken up to a wet bed, a saturated towel-cum-nappy and an itchy crotch. He was angry with himself because he just couldn’t understand why he was doing such a thing.

He was uncomfortable, irritable and embarrassed and reached down to feel the dirty, saggy towel between his legs with a great deal of disgust.

He blamed his mum, Lizzie and somehow even Dee-Dee for his current predicament and hated the lot of them for making him dress so, so, so…

The problem was he irritated with himself because he’d wet yet again and couldn’t deny what happened, therefore, couldn’t really complain about the consequences of his ‘actions’. He knew it wasn’t his fault because he didn’t know he was doing it. Other than that could offer no explanation or come up with a better course of measures than a nappy to prevent worse after-effects… a wet bed was very unpleasant.

His anger was more out of frustration than directed at anyone in particular, except, well, it was easier to blame everyone other than himself.

Despite the fact that his make-do nappy had, to some degree, prevented a worse soaked bed he wanted rid of the soggy mass as soon as possible. However, his mother insisted she didn’t have time and he should get down to breakfast where he’d be sorted out after they’d all eaten.

She watched him get up and sigh at the obviously sopping nappy that hung down between his legs.

The bedding was a mess, all damp and creased, whilst an air of urine was beginning to make the room smell less than pleasant.

He fought to pull up his jammy bottoms which helped a little but didn’t hide the evidence of a very wet boy.

Under his mother’s watchful eye, he slowly made his way down to the kitchen feeling every soggy step, the rough fabric irritating his thighs with even the slightest movement. His mother, gathering up the dirty bedding, was more than a little annoyed that he’d wet again and knew something had better be done soon.

She wasn’t happy with her son and he wasn’t happy about his nappy… there was bitterness and resentment building on both sides.

His favourite morning cereal wasn’t improving the difficult situation he was now in and wished he was allowed to change himself but mum insisted it had to be supervised by Lizzie, and that really irked him.

He was very upset about everything and banged and crashed his bowl, spoon and cup around as he sulkily ate breakfast. The mess and noise he created just added to Lizzie’s firm belief that he should be wearing a nappy permanently… so that’s how he should be treated.

This attitude didn’t help the situation; he looked like a petulant little baby sat in a soggy nappy.

#

Once breakfast was finished Lizzie took Dee-Dee off to be changed. She told a protesting Billy to wait his turn and stop bellyaching, she’d soon be back. He had no option but to do as he was told and sat fidgeting in his scratchy towel, while he desperately needed a pee.

Although there were some protests from the baby of the family, Liz stripped Dee-Dee out of her wet stuff, cleaned her up, spread the anti-rash lotion and had her powdered very quickly. The youngest had been surprised at waking up wet and although she didn’t like all the fuss, at least the protection had worked.

However, much to Dee-Dee’s disgust and resentment, her pleas for normal knickers were ignored as Lizzie re-pinned her into a clean nappy and fed those old, but useful, plastic pants up to enclose the thick material.

Her older sister took a firm hand and used guilt to make her comply with what she was doing.

“Look, you’ve wet and I have no intention of cleaning you up again should you have another accident. So, this will act as a reminder and a safeguard… just in case…”

She left the thought hanging in the air.

Dee-Dee’s protests were in vain as Liz pointed out that she had a choice, either she put up with it under her dress, or walk around wearing only a nappy for the rest of the day. And, as Lizzie planned on going into town shopping, she’d have to toddle around as she was and everyone would see her protection. It was her choice.

Dee-Dee’s mood changed a little when Liz also pointed out that her brother would be given the same choice so she wouldn’t be the only one wearing such an item.

Six year old she may have been but every bit as bright as her older sister so knew that it would come down to the lesser of two evils. Reluctantly, she agreed with everything her big sister suggested. The girls then spent what seemed to Billy waiting downstairs, an eternity choosing just what else to wear.

Dee-Dee was looking for something to cover the entire thing but Lizzie, after letting her search around for some time, eventually pulled a short summer skirt from her wardrobe. She knew exactly how she wanted her ‘baby’ sister to look… and the nappy and plastic pants would be taking centre stage.

“You’ll look lovely in this.”

Lizzie was enthusiastic about what she’d found.

“But, but, it won’t cover anything… I … I…ummm.”

She must have known her protest would be in vain as Lizzie was already pulling the skirt up and over her protection. Part of the shiny plastic bulk could just be seen hanging below the hemline, which was precisely how Lizzie had planned it… cute and very juvenile.

Nevertheless, and this was what made it reasonably okay for Dee-Dee to wear what had been designated, Lizzie convinced her that when she stood up it was barely visible. The thick rough material also gave the youngster a strange feeling between her legs, whilst the rubbing of the plastic on her thighs sort of tickled a bit. It was more unwieldy than her knickers but not totally unpleasant and after a few minutes getting used to her new underwear, Dee-Dee forgot all about it.

Lizzie liked the look and wished she could get Billy into something similar. That sneaky peek of plastic pant was very babyish and her mind lit up with possibilities of them both sucking on baby’s bottles and dummies. To her, plastic pants and nappies always visible would keep them both in check and at the same time look completely adorable.

With her two young siblings already looking alike, to her at least it would be wonderful to have them dressed alike. She had a vision of them together playing in their nappies; Billy slightly taller of the two but still enthralled with a childish game his smaller but more confident sister had devised. Setting off the scene to perfection would be the rustle of their glossy plastic pants adding a shiny, cheerful but babyish note to their pleasure.

#

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, in his desperation to pee, Billy came up with the obvious solution, he’d simply soak his towel that bit more and no one would be any the wiser.

Even though his jammy bottoms were already soaked he slipped them off and stood wearing just his flooded protection. The rough material was looking decidedly discoloured and beginning to smell but in Billy’s mind he was just using it as a mop-up cloth, which was what it had been used for in the past.

Unfortunately for him, he took the wrong moment to fulfil his biological need so, as he filled his waterlogged nappy to saturation point, the fabric leaked out onto the tiled floor.

There was a slight stinging as he peed but, in truth, it was remarkable just how easy it was to go into his towel and feel such relief.

Standing in the doorway to observe the incident were his sisters who he had not heard returning to the kitchen.

Such an opportune moment was quickly seized on by Lizzie who loudly proclaimed it was a deliberate act of wetting. Conspiring with her witness Dee-Dee, they berated their brother for being nothing more than “a thoughtless little boy”, a “nappy wetter” and when he teared up, nothing but a “big cry baby”.

A red flush covered his body but the pee just kept flowing and dribbling down his leg to pool on the tiles. He couldn’t stop. Even with his sister’s watching and their mocking, his burning bladder just kept the stream coming as his body slumped in humiliation and tears fell.

In his shame and anger he swore and cursed them but it didn’t help… he was guilty of this terrible act.

Perhaps they were right; maybe he was nothing more than a pissy little baby who had no control.

When he finished the look on Lizzie’s face told him he was in deep trouble. He had no defence, they’d witnessed what he’d done and he knew he was for the high jump. Lizzie grabbed his hand and dragged him upstairs and into the bathroom.

Billy stumbled and quickly grabbed the heavy wet nappy as it slipped down his thighs. To be seen naked was the worst so pulled up the thick and sopping item to preserve his modesty.

He didn’t know it but modesty was soon to be a thing of the past.

Angrily (although really pleased at the wonderful turn of events) she pulled off his soaked make-do nappy and told him emphatically that from now on, as he acted like a little baby, deliberately peeing his pants, then that’s how she intended treating him.

A sorrowful “Nooo” and an “It’s not my fault” didn’t help as he tried desperately to stop Lizzie seeing him naked.

“You purposely kept me fucking waiting… you wanted me to fucking wet my…”

A stream of expletives and angry accusation followed which Lizzie stood and took. She didn’t mind, she’d use it against him later if need be. She knew their mother hated swearing and would take the paddle to his bare bottom if/when she found out.

He carried on swearing at his older sister, blaming her for his soggy hanging shame. However, he’d been warned many times by his mother that he should not swear, and certainly never in the house.

Lizzie just batted his flailing hands away and let him carry on being his usual self-obsessed centre of attention but taking no notice of his protests.

This was typical him… you try to help but he just ends up being difficult.

Lizzie let him struggle for a while, part of her wishing he was a girl and then they wouldn’t be having all these problems that raucous boys seemed to carry around with them. She thought all boys Billy’s age were the same annoying little sods.

However, now she had him in a nappy, and to a certain extent Dee-Dee as well, she was quite content… her plan was moving on nicely.

#

Her heart had beat faster when she’d come up with this novel idea, it had gone into overdrive when she’d collected the stuff from the attic. The simple act of handling the old fabric nappy squares and plastic pants had sent more than a shiver through her core.

The urge to have them both dressed as babies became more and more powerful the more she caressed those small soft items of childhood. She was only fourteen but there was something that just clicked as she held up one of Dee-Dee’s sweet little baby onesies. Her body flushed with excitement as her mind raced at the thought of what she planned to do with her siblings.

As she’d sorted through the old baby clothes, toys and other stuff all she could imagine was them both having to surrender to her instructions. She was growing up fast and all manner of hormones and inspiration were careering through her system. She would be ‘mummy’ and have a couple of real babies to play with, to dress, feed and clean.

However, to begin with she hadn’t thought about the work her plan would involve; the constant changing and washing. For her to see them both contained in such a juvenile way, and the way such padding reduced the wearer immediately to a toddling tot, was as far as her vision stretched.

With Billy now struggling in her hands as she changed his soaked nappy she grinned knowing that her plan was already working so well. The wet towel was not very nice to have to wear, and this is what made it so much fun, her brother hated it.

When a knowing and cunning look appeared on Lizzie’s face he knew he’d overstepped the mark.

A sudden gulp of resentment and fear stuck in his throat and he lost the ability to explain or defend himself.

Billy was so embarrassed and guilty about what he’d just done, and had been witnessed by both his sisters; all he could do was blub as Lizzie furiously set about getting him cleaned up.

She could have left him in his present state but was playing the long game so decided that for the moment, a little ‘understanding’ might be more appreciated.

He cried but knew he’d been caught red-handed (or wet-nappied), and had been foul-mouthed, so couldn’t pretend his innocence.

#

Lizzie was thorough in her ministrations but kept tut-tutting and shaking her head as if she found the situation quite unbelievable.

Billy tried to pretend it wasn’t happening by squeezing his eyes tight shut whilst she wiped his genitals. Alas for Billy, his culpability made him less rebellious than he would normally have been so the process became a lot less fraught.

She noticed that his groin was very red and explained that all the wetting had given him a nappy rash, which set him off wailing all over again.

“Mum said this might happen and I’d have to cover the area with this.”

She held up the white ointment that had already been applied to Dee-Dee but, knowing Billy’s embarrassment was only just beginning, took even greater delight in the application process.

To have his sister, who was only three years older than him, rubbing in the cream with such vigour was more than a little disconcerting but couldn’t object because he felt so guilty.

There was no denying that he’d been itching since he’d woken up and wondered why it felt so uncomfortable sitting at breakfast. Now he knew, he had to suffer the ignominy as she smeared on the antiseptic balm like he was a baby.

However, he hadn’t realised just how ‘personal’ that treatment would be when she heavily coated it around his genitals and then made him turn over so she could cover his tender red bottom.

His rash actually needed the attention Lizzie was giving it but she was really pleased at the way he wriggled awkwardly as her fingers massaged the greasy stuff into his boy parts.
Billy wanted to be indignant about the procedure. He wanted to tell her again to ‘FUCK OFF’ and use a stream of hurtful invective at her but at that moment thought it better to remain tight-lipped.

He didn’t even know there was such a cream in the house, or what the rash was, so would never have thought to use it.

He hated being treated like a toddler but really would have no idea how to have gone about it on his own.

Reluctantly, he had to concede that on this point, his sister knew best.

Whilst in that position, and showering his upturned inflamed bum cheeks with powder, she mentioned that if it was up to her his bottom would be red from a damn good paddling (mum had delivered them in the past). As far as Lizzie was concerned… he was a very naughty, foul-mouthed and inconsiderate little boy, purposely wetting himself for some dubious ‘attention seeking’ reason.

Lizzie knew that by intentionally making Billy believe he was solely culpable for what was happening, he was in no position to object to her plans and, a little fear made him far more acquiescent.

She said she was surprised that mum hadn’t spanked her two naughty ‘babies’ for giving her even more to worry about and that both he and Dee-Dee should think about their over-worked mother more.

She laid it on thick how she thought they were doing it on purpose just to annoy mum and give her even more stress.

She laid the blame squarely at her thoughtless brother for being the main culprit, accusing him of actually enjoying wetting his bed as she’d just seen him deliberately wet his nappy. Billy had no defence so Lizzie was able to make him feel more guilt-ridden, whilst actually enjoying the fact he had no idea what was going on.

However, she had no idea what was really going on in Billy’s bladder.

#

Billy knew she wasn’t joking and was relieved that he managed to turn back without her carrying out her threat to spank him. His relief didn’t last long as she soon pushed the other thick, adapted old terry towel under his bottom and began to fasten it in place. She deliberately made it double thickness so its huge, cushiony size would prevent Billy from finding any clothes to fit over it.

His screams of indignation could have been heard across the street but he had no defence from the strength of his sister as she attempted to pin him in. He tried to pull it off but he got a smack for his pains together with a very severe warning if he continued to mess about worse would follow.

She was adamant, for his own protection he was going to be wearing a nappy whether he liked it or not. Lizzie was happy to list the number of times he wet and that she wasn’t taking any chances on her ‘pissy little brother’ leaving a trail of pee wherever he went.

So… he had a choice; either stop fighting and wear it, or fight, get a spanking and still have to wear it?

He fought as best he could but there was a slight problem, she was far too strong and had become adept at holding him immobile whilst she did what she wanted. In the past that had ranged from tickling, through to just beating him up. She was very strong and knew that he’d have to obey or be hurt.

Eventually, both the over-powering sense of guilt and the inevitable fight drained from him. He realised the futility and she took the opportunity to continue his change into the huge, dry, modified towel.

“Don’t you dare take it off,” Lizzie screamed at him as she pulled the thick towel up between his legs. “I’ve just watched you piss yourself on purpose and if you think I have nothing better to do than run around changing and washing stuff after you mess up, you’re sadly mistaken.”

To emphasise her point she indicated, with a slight tap to his head, the washing line outside that held the billowing results from two days of wet bedding.

In Lizzie’s mind this was evidence to anyone with eyes to see that she was looking after her baby brother and sister. If she planned it right, the sheets wouldn’t need so much attention as they’d be both wearing nappies on a night and then, she got excited at the thought, it would be just a row of fluttering nappies proclaiming the return of babies back at the Southall residence.

Why this pleased her so much she wasn’t sure… it just did and even the thought of changing wet nappy after wet nappy didn’t appear to deter her from her aim… it was a price worth paying… well for now at least.

The warning smack to the back of his head had surprised but not hurt him, although it made him realise defying her was a stupid move. She was at her most determined so any protest would have been useless. So, as the final large pin held him tightly in his make-do nappy he had nowhere to go for support or anyone to defend his position.

Also, she had indeed just watched him fill his already bloated protection so couldn’t argue that point, even if the reason was because she’d taken so long with Dee-Dee. However, her final threat was what made him simmer down as best he could.

“If you carry on like this I’ll make you wear a nappy when your friends come over.”

The look she gave him made him believe she wasn’t kidding.

#

He didn’t know it but two of his friends themselves were wearing protection having shit the bed on a couple of occasions; their parents taking the necessary precautions to prevent further mess and stinky pants. The two boys, Dave and Mitch, like Billy, had put up a fight but faced with the alternative (shitty pants) had grudgingly acquiesced to their parent’s solution. They, like him, had not linked their canal dip with their problem, but in both cases a thick nappy had been the temporary solution.

Meanwhile, his other friend Aaron who had wet himself during the night had been able to hide the evidence from his parents so, for the moment at least, was wearing normal underwear. Although he wasn’t feeling too well, his dick burned when he peed, he tried to maintain his usual adventurous spirit and had gone off with his father walking in the hills. It was a day that wouldn’t end well for him.

Billy continued to squirm uneasily in the thick homemade defence but wasn’t trying to remove it merely get comfortable. The cream his sister had spread over his rash had an immediate affect so wasn’t itching as much. So there was an air of inevitability to the procedure as he meekly let his sister finish getting him ready.

Leading him by the hand as he waddled to his bedroom they went through the dresser and wardrobe trying to find something for him to wear that covered his protection but, as Lizzie knew only too well, it was far too thick for any of his clothes to fit. However, as she’d told Dee-Dee, they were going shopping in town so he had to find something as she wasn’t going to leave him home alone.

Again he started to whine and complain but she simply told him to find something otherwise she’d dress him in some of her old clothes, which she held out for inspection. She really wished she could get him into a skirt like Dee-Dee was wearing but knew that was probably not something he’d do willingly. The flowery skirt and lacy top she held out doubling Billy’s efforts.

#

A few years earlier Billy had been forced into wearing some of Lizzie’s clothes when she and a group of her friends decided he was to be their dress-up doll for a game they were playing. Poor six year-old Billy didn’t get a chance to complain as grabbing prepubescent girly hands ambushed and easily pulled off his clothes. Distressed and crying for help he had little resistance as he was introduced to the realm of girly dresses and make-up.

His juvenile embarrassment only came to an end only when his father arrived home, saw his painted face and told him to get cleaned up. Lizzie received no reprimand from either parent and even at that young age Billy was fostering a great deal of resentment. He was always punished if he did anything wrong and was upset at the injustice when his older sister wasn’t. Lizzie was the apple of her daddy’s eye, very like him in so many ways, and nothing a young shy boy searching for love and acceptance in the family could ever usurp.

No mention was made to the fact he was wearing his sisters clothes, right down to her panties, or that he’d protested against being involved or that they’d bullied him into wearing it all. He was a boy and hadn’t wanted anything to do with their little game but it looked like he was the one held responsible even though he was only six at the time. Even with his father around it appeared the girls could do no wrong. For young Billy, life was unfair.

Once Dee-Dee was a little older, she became the dress-up doll for their games. However, he never forgave his parents because they hadn’t punished Lizzie believing her side of the story that he’d asked to play with them and, much to his irritation, her friends supported that story. What was worse, they still mentioned the incident whenever they visited.

It was in that one act of humiliation that young Billy had decided to rail against the rest of the family. He couldn’t change them but he would make sure they knew of his existence. He argued, got into trouble, fought for his place against the rest of the world as much as a young boy could. However, Lizzie, through sheer oppression, kept her little brother firmly at the bottom of the family pecking order.

#

Despite his protests Lizzie was adamant that she wasn’t going to leave him at home and that he had to go with them for some urgent shopping. She made him feel responsible by insisting it was because he was pissing the bed that they had to shop in the first place. She was fed up with his stalling so simply gave him one last warning and if he didn’t comply she’d “spank him raw put him in a dress and drag him kicking and screaming around town”.

Wearing only a t-shirt and his make-do nappy Billy was panicking as he searched in vain for something, anything to wear. He knew Lizzie wasn’t joking and he’d die a thousand times of humiliation if he was seen by any of his friends wearing girl’s clothes.

In the end, all he could find were a pair of thin but baggy white polyester shorts he wore to play footie in. If he pulled them up then the hem of his towel could be seen drooping down his leg hole, and if he pulled them a little way down, the thick, pinned waistband was clearly visible. In the end he settled on a jumper to cover the top part and hoped that his protection wouldn’t be too obvious under his shorts.

Under Lizzie’s careful instructions Dee-Dee promised that his ample and very evident protective cushion wasn’t really all that noticeable. Lizzie had gleefully pointed out to her little sister that no one would notice her protection, which was just visible below her skirt, as they would all be looking at Billy. She’d been able to convince her that the protection was necessary… just to be safe, a line she used over and over again. All she had to do was pretend it hardly showed under his shorts and convince him that no one would be any the wiser.

Lizzie was pleased with herself at having both of them wearing nappies to go into town… although she wished that Billy’s was more obvious. She didn’t have to worry.

Once on the bus and well on their way to town it became evident to Billy that everyone knew he was wearing a nappy because that was all he could feel as he wriggled about in his seat. At one point the white terry material poked down both leg holes at the same time and he only noticed that fact when a small boy pointed it out to his mother.

The young boy had apparently just been potty trained as he said rather loudly that he was a big boy now and didn’t need his ‘bah-bahs’ anymore. Giggling and pointing at the offending item it became plain just what his ‘bah-bahs’ were and all eyes looked towards Billy who tried to shrink away as he pulled at his pathetically useless shorts.

The entire bus seemed to be smiling at his distress as he writhed in disgrace.

Lizzie whispered to her reddening brother. “Don’t worry we’ll get you something to hide all that when we get to the shops.”

Dee-Dee was making funny faces back at the outspoken toddler, who was happily giggling at her facial expressions. Meanwhile, his mother seemed embarrassed by her son’s loud declaration and was pointedly looking out of the window trying to avoid making eye contact with any of them. Despite that she had a slight smile in the corners of her mouth at a boy his age unmistakeably still wearing such a huge nappy.

Lizzie also had a smile, and though she was attempting to put Billy at ease with his predicament, she was actually very pleased the young boy had noticed. She knew her brother well enough to identify how mortified he’d be feeling right at that moment and couldn’t wait to increase that shame.

#

Leaving the bus, Billy reluctantly followed his two sisters around. He’d noticed that Dee-Dee was also wearing her protection and wondered why she was wearing such a short skirt that revealed quite a bit of it. However, he then realised Lizzie had supervised her outfit like she’d done his so perhaps, like him, had no say in it. They’d both wet so this was Lizzie’s solution. He grumpily thought about the options he was given; either the pair of revealing shorts he was wearing, or some of Lizzie’s old clothes. He was certain he’d made the right choice.

Once in the main shopping area it was busy enough for him not to worry too much about anyone noticing his thick padding but he was still on the lookout in case any of his school mates were around. So intent on spying for his friends he simply followed his sisters into a shop. Relieved to be away from the crowds he realised too late he was in the disposable and accessories aisle in one of the big pharmacies.

A shiver ran down his spine when he understood they were there to buy more ‘baby’ items. He’d hoped that his and Dee-Dee’s accidents would be regarded as only temporary and they weren’t in need of extra supplies.

He didn’t know about the good job Lizzie had done convincing their mother it was better to be safe than sorry. When the enormity of the situation dawned on him he was in for another surprise, a spurt of pee was just the herald for an absolute flood that suddenly filled his customized terry towel.

There had been a brief stabbing pain just before he spurted into his nappy, which shocked him.

He didn’t say or do anything as that jolt took control of his body. He didn’t hear a nearby lady asking if he was okay, or the fact that his white shorts now had a yellowing patch down the front.

He just stood completely transfixed as he emptied his aching bladder without effort or advanced notice. It was as if his body had gone into automatic and he had no control.

It was only the sudden thud to his chest that drew him out of his mesmerised state. Unaware of what was happening Lizzie had chucked a huge package of disposables for him to hold but he’d been so out of it he hadn’t noticed what she was doing. Lizzie, being ill-tempered at the best of times, simply forced the colourful bag into his hands and told him they were now his responsibility. It was only then that she noticed the tut-tutting of the lady and saw her eyes looking at the growing damp patch.

“Oh Billy, not again.”

She couldn’t believe what her brother was doing and surprised at his complete lack of understanding about the event. It was only a few seconds later it seemed to register on his face and the look of pain, embarrassment and fear gripped his features. He started to snivel.

With an audience looking on Lizzie went into ‘Nice Lizzie’ mode and was immediately attentive to her little brother.

“Don’t worry little fella.” She said as if talking to a toddler. “I’ll have you cleaned up and changed in seconds.” She was playing to the few people watching on. “Let’s find a place to get you sorted.”

Dee-Dee stared in wonder as to what was happening but couldn’t help herself from patting her brother’s padded bottom and letting him know just how wet everything was looking back there.

She’d gotten used to her own slippery protection and had been glad the night before for her plastic pants when she woke up soaked again but her bed was dry.

She was really grateful they had prevented damp sheets, even if she hadn’t understood why she’d wet in the first place. However, the plastic pants had stopped her soaking everything else, so had been a good addition to her present wetting difficulty. They would have certainly helped Billy had he been wearing any.

Lizzie just couldn’t believe Billy had publically wet himself. Apart from that first time a few nights ago when he’d wet the bed himself, she thought she’d been responsible for all his other little accidents but this… well this was nothing to do with her.

#

She left Dee-Dee and Billy sitting on a chair whilst she very quickly finished her shopping and then, armed with all her purchases, asked the sales assistant where the nearest changing facilities were. Luckily they weren’t very far away so she gathered them and everything up and made her way to the baby changing area.

By this time Billy was feeling guilty, stupid and utterly humiliated by the entire event. His nappy had swollen and filled out his shorts, which were also very wet and discoloured. All three clambered into the changing room and locked the door.

The look Lizzie gave Billy made him feel like an absolute baby. Without using any baby words she still managed, by her mocking tone alone, to make him feel nothing more than a toddler.

Luckily she had bought enough items now to at least make sure he was cleaned up and put into something dry.

“You see,” she pointed out, “you didn’t want to wear a nappy and now look… “

She left the insinuation in the air.

Billy was on the verge of both another outburst and bursting into even more tears. He wanted to argue and put up a fight but the incident had knocked most of the stuffing out of him and he didn’t have the willpower.

Lizzie made him lie out on the changing table, which even though wasn’t designed for someone Billy’s size seemed to fit. She pulled away the sodden shorts and discoloured towel and checked the redness that now surrounded that area. She could instantly tell that he would be getting an even more severe rash if further precautions weren’t taken.

With a whole bunch of wet-wipes she cleaned him up and applied copious amounts of anti-rash cream plus loads of talcum powder. She pulled out a couple of soaker pads and inserted them into a freshly unfolded colourful disposable.

“I’m not wearing that.” He protested.

“And I’m not having you piss all over the shop, the bus or me… so yes… you bloody well are.”

He wriggled trying to get away but Lizzie gave him a very powerful slap to his naked thigh and he immediately stopped, finding tears more of a diversion than the fact she was taping him into a very thick disposable. His eyes were bleary from weeping so didn’t notice that she also started to role a pair of thick white plastic pants over it all.

“I don’t want to… I don’t wanna… wear … bbbaby pantsss…” Billy struggled with his emotions and inability to do anything about it once Lizzie was in one of her moods.

“Maybe not, but we don’t want you leaking all over everyone… and besides…” Lizzie mocked, “you’ll want something to hide your nappy.”

With a final yank they were over the bulge and an unhappy Billy sat sobbing. The colourful pattern of the disposable could faintly be made out behind the gloss of his new semi-transparent vinyl pants.

“How about you Dee-Dee, do you need a change?” Lizzie asked.

Looking at how big her brother’s protection now was… she shook her head.

“Okay, let’s go.”

“But what about sssome pants?” Billy stammered through his tears.

“We don’t have any and you can’t wear the ones you came in as they’re wet and stained.” She shook her head at him. “You’ll just have to make do.”

“But, but…” Billy tried to object but it was no use. “Can’t we bbbuy something…?”

Lizzie sounded concerned and convincing when she said they had no money for anything else and that unfortunately there was no alternative so he’d just have to put up with it, at least the nappy was now hidden.

She pulled him to his feet and even Dee-Dee gulped at just how big his padding now appeared.

The white shiny plastic appeared to glow as it strained around the bulk. There was a loud rustling sound as he moved because he was having difficulty walking. He really was in a very awkward situation and Dee-Dee wriggled, thankful that her protection wasn’t nearly as obvious. She involuntarily reached beneath her dress, smoothed her own nappy down and sighed in relief.

Billy didn’t detect his little sister’s gasp of concern as he was being instructed by Lizzie that, as there was nothing they could do about it, and, so as not to draw attention to the problem, he should carry the large pack of disposables in front of him and they would walk behind. It wasn’t the best solution but it would give him some privacy.

Tears flooded down his cheeks as she opened the changing room door and led her charges out and back into the store. A couple of people who had heard him crying were looking on but once they saw he was physically alright they went about their business.

#

Lizzie gave him the biggest bag to carry so he could hold it in front of his huge puffy crotch, which was now encased in shiny white vinyl and reflecting the light. It became like a flashing beacon to everyone as he passed.

Lizzie was overjoyed at the spectacle of having both her charges wearing obvious plastic pants which barely disguised the nappy underneath. This was her plan and it had all come together at remarkable speed. Dee-Dee’s glossy baby pants would flash occasionally as she walked or gave a childish hop, whilst Billy, with a certain glistening rustle, strode disconsolately and awkwardly ahead of them both.

Sniggers and comments were hardly muted as Lizzie guided her grumpy brother and sister towards the bus stop.

“Can’t we get a taxi? Please let us get a taxi…” He pleaded with his big sister but she just shook her head and told him they weren’t made of money.

A miserable and nervous Billy was the centre of attention for everyone, not just those passengers on the bus. His shame was complete when, with still a couple of bus stops left before home, and after a brief but severe stabbing pain in his gut (more excitable microbes were now happily playing in his bowel), he filled his disposable with more than pee.

Elizabeth noticed his sudden change of attitude as he sat there with the huge package of disposables on his lap. His constant complaining stopped; his face went a bright red and his eyes misted over as silent tears ran down his cheeks. An unpleasant sneer, as if he’d witnessed some diabolical event, slid over his face before he cast his eyes down to the floor, ashamed of what he’d detected.

Thankfully for Billy, the huge protection he was wearing absorbed all he’d discharged and the plastic pants, tightly hugging everything together, prevented any embarrassing smell or leakage.

Lizzie didn’t know precisely what had happened but knew something had.

The way he was grasping the huge package of colourful disposables so tightly against his protection, meant something drastic and critical had taken place.

However, completely out of character, she sympathetically put her arm around her little brother.

It wasn’t that she particularly felt sorry for Billy, but instinctively knew that if she came across as caring, she’d be able to manipulate him a lot more easily when needed.

She squeezed her brother and whispered that he shouldn’t worry because accidents happen, they’d be home soon and she was there to help.

The walk from the bus stop back to the house was slow and disgusting for Billy as he tentatively waddled, aware of the lumpy wet stinking mess filling the rear of his protection. Although, he’d hated being made to wear all the thick padding, he was grateful that he’d not leaked in public. It wasn’t Lizzie’s fault he’d pissed and now crapped himself and for once she wasn’t ridiculing or shouting at him.

His misery compounded he really was reliant on Lizzie to help him through this. He had no idea why he now shit his pants but that stabbing pain must have been some indication that something was wrong. In spite of this he never thought about his swim in the canal and simply surmised it had probably been something he’d eaten.

It was as if, for the first time in his life, Lizzie actually understood he was in need of a few nice words to lift him from the pit of despair he was in. Despite himself, he was happy that his big sister was looking after him.

Dee-Dee slowly became aware of what her brother had done and cheekily slapped his bulging, squelchy bottom as a joke. Billy wasn’t in any mood for such ‘playful’ antics and complained bitterly to Lizzie that it wasn’t fair.

He was now sounding like a whiny little toddler and she couldn’t have been happier. She hugged him close and told him not to worry it would be fine; all the time thinking her plan couldn’t be going any better.

This story is written by Les Lea

You can find more story’s like this one posted on My ABDL Life. The only thing you need to do is to check out this page to find them.

Chapter 1

Chapter 3

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Auntie Joan Part 9

This story is written by Les Lea

The night before school my mind had been working overtime. All I could think (and partially dream) about was my life at the different ‘educational’ establishments I’d attended since I was young. Alas, as I tossed and turned with each invading reflection, the thick night time diaper that held me tightly didn’t offer the soft comfort I’d come to expect.

#

At three years old I had been potty trained by my mother and then, with her part in my development done, sent off into the world. At that first ‘nursery/crèche/kindergarten’, I have no idea what it was, but what I did eventually get to know was that I was away from my ‘loving’ mommy and daddy and not a happy child. My first and main recollection from that time was that I wet myself constantly. The people looking after me seemed to focus on the fact I was wetting rather than the why and so kept me in diapers the entire time I was there.
In between brief visits from my parents, after which I would cry for days, I was kept clean and fed but for me, and the other toddlers (I was not alone), each day followed the same timetable; a diet of dynamic learning, followed by unhappiness, followed by more learning. If we played at all… that particular memory escapes me… but that austere and unloving place literally scared the shit out of me. As if to prove it, my potty training reversed and my diaper was constantly full.

#

In those half-dreams and fevered recollections I could still feel that dense rough diaper irritating with each movement. Together with the noisy crack of the thick, almost unyielding plastic pants that held it in place felt like I was encased in granite.
I wriggled unhappily under my nursery print covers, thankful at least auntie always made sure my protection was soft and comfortable, though, because of my agitated dreams, at that moment I wasn’t particularly enjoying such consideration.

#

When I reached the age of five I was moved to another private school. It took pride in the fact its ‘student’ body was prepared for senior school and so, ‘education, education, education’ was its main (and I would say only) priority. Here at least I wasn’t kept in scratchy diapers, which to some degree I eventually grew out of with just an occasional nocturnal lapse. However, the school wasn’t equipped for these little lapses and I (like anyone else who suffered a wet night) was ridiculed and ostracised and made to wear protection in class for the entire following day. The other kids never let such an opportunity pass so I was fair game for any grade to mock and be made fun of. By the time I was approaching my tenth birthday I’d learned to hide any toiletry hiccups so to all intents and purposes I’d grown out of that ‘problem’. At the same time my abilities were recognised when academically at least I easily came top of the class.
This was when my parents broke the news that I was to sit another exam in the UK to further my education. Stupidly I assumed they would be in England too, it wasn’t to be.

#

These dreams, thoughts and often unpleasant images raced through my active brain whether I was asleep or awake and by morning I was severely wet and half dead to the world.

#

The morning wasn’t helped after auntie stripped me out of my soaked protection but, after a shower, the ritual I so looked forward to was denied. Not that auntie would do anything to upset me but, this was a new opportunity that I was encouraged to take. So, no lotions or powders or soft fluffy disposable taped snugly into place. No slinky vinyl slowly fed up my legs, slipping deliciously over my thighs to grip my waist in a welcoming manner. The nursery held the clothes I wanted but the clothes I was to wear were in the ‘other room’ and I had to fortify myself from that moment – I had to get back into teenage mode.

Of course auntie had laid out my wardrobe for the day; right on top was a little pair of pull-ups that we’d spoken about. She knew I was a bit nervous about staying dry so we agreed to this little ‘help’ to be worn under my underpants. It wasn’t the same but their slight rustle and full crotch was most welcome under the rest of my school clothes.

#

I caught the bus to school like so many other kids and, apart from one or two who knew me and were whispering, looking and giggling in my direction, the journey passed off without much to report.
I’d entered the school grounds with a slight crinkle and a great deal of apprehension. I saw Yoosuf talking to a group of girls, waved and then looked around for the familiar face of Oliver but couldn’t see him.

#

There was no set ‘uniform’, social or educational, and everyone appeared to be wearing what they liked. I’d chosen a pair of fawn coloured chinos over my slight protection, a green polo shirt, trainers and had my backpack slung over one shoulder… I thought I blended in quite well. Not overly smart but not slovenly either. There were several boys wearing shorts, but nearly all wore them long and baggy so definitely not my style. The girls were a completely different story and seemed to form into groups who all dressed the same. However, that was just a first impression as I gazed around at my new school buddies. Then I spied a familiar face coming through a group of noisy students who were standing at the gate.

#

He was nodding to everyone, even folk I suspect he didn’t know, but when our eyes met he waved and made straight towards me. The thing was I was spellbound. He was wearing a pair of khaki shorts and an AC/DC t-shirt… it was a young Colin come to life from one of the images in auntie’s photo album.
Stunned by this apparition I couldn’t move. I wanted to say something, I wanted to greet my friend, I wanted to acknowledge, well, I wasn’t sure what – because for that one shocking moment Oliver looked exactly like Colin, the only difference from the photo was the logo on the t-shirt.
He came up and hugged me like a long lost friend and I was so overcome, my bladder gave way and I pissed my pants. Not just a little, but a flow so strong that it deluged my pull-up and a tell-tale stain radiated from my groin.
If it hadn’t been for Oliver’s quick action the first impression I would have made at school was as a pants wetter.

#

He was surprised that I didn’t reciprocate the hug but when he pulled back he noticed my pants. Quick as a flash, and before anyone else could see, he pulled off his backpack and held it in front of my rapidly expanding stain. To be honest, I wasn’t really aware of what I’d done and it wasn’t until Oliver was guiding me towards the main building that I realised what had happened. The spreading damp radiating from my groin was not the nicely warming experience it would have been in a diaper.
I was full of apologies but Oli just smiled and said, “Wow, nobody’s ever been that pleased to see me.”
He seemed to know his way around the school and we ended up at the nurse’s office. She came out to see who her first patient of the day was and, as the bell had just gone, dismissed Oli back to

class. I sat there trying to explain how I was taken by surprise by his enthusiastic hug but the nurse, Nurse Jefferson, wasn’t convinced.
She noticed something that no one else had mentioned. She said that I spoke like a little boy. Well, to be honest, she didn’t say that exactly but the way she responded to my words left me in no doubt. I hadn’t realised that my speech had been so defined by my time at Rainbow and I suppose, those who knew me, especially auntie, just thought that’s the way I spoke. It hadn’t bothered me until Nurse Jefferson mentioned it but now I was at High School, with wet pants and sounding like a baby… things definitely needed to change.

#

My pants were a mess and there was no way I could walk around school looking like I did. She spoke to someone on the phone, who I assumed was the principal, checked something on her computer and then phoned auntie. My pull-up hadn’t been as efficient as hoped and I could see Nurse Jefferson wondering what action to take.
Before she had chance to come to any conclusion the phone rang and she was obviously receiving further information as she kept looking up at me and agreeing to what was being said down the phone.
“Oh I see.” She listened
“Right.” There was more.

“Well that explains…” Something was said and agreed upon.
She eventually wandered over and asked in a soft cajoling whisper you’d use with an infant if I needed any help and did I want a change.
I was taken by surprise at her suggestion, and even though at that particular moment I would have loved a change, the thought of a fluffy disposable hugging my groin making me wriggle in anticipation, I said “No”. I didn’t want it to get around that on my first day I’d wet my pants, had to see the nurse and she’d diapered me. I needed to keep that a secret for a while longer… or so I thought.

#

Not long after auntie arrived with a bag of dry clothes but before I could change we were called into the principal’s office. He seemed a nice man but was obviously a little perplexed at what he was reading; it was a report from the psychiatrist.
I’d not thought this far ahead and for the second time that day I was shocked, with the result that, unfortunately, I wet myself even more. This was not going well and I couldn’t fathom where all this pee was coming from. As the dark stain on my chinos spread further the principal noticed and requested I immediately go and see the nurse while he and auntie talked.
Auntie passed me the bag with my clean clothes and I reluctantly left the room clutching it tightly to my groin for the few yards journey to the nurse’s office.

#

When I arrived she was very business-like.
“Right, let’s get you organised and into something dry shall we?”
I knew I looked like a stupid little kid, which of course I normally didn’t mind, but confronted by this particular lady, I felt feeble and inadequate. The folk at Rainbow just changed me like they would any other infant but here, at High School, I was no longer a happy, playful toddler but a teenage student who’d wet his pants.
“Take off your pants,” she paused, “or would you prefer I do it?”
There was no malice in her voice just a question.

Since I’d been with auntie I was used to doing as instructed so slowly unbuttoned the top of my chinos and let them drop to the floor.
She could see the expanded pull-up bulging out behind my underpants and indicated they needed to come off as well.
Standing there in my soggy pull-up and stained underpants it just didn’t feel real. I hadn’t been wearing any extra plastic protection so my pee had not been well contained. Being changed at Rainbow (or at home) was a process I wasn’t involved in, somebody else made the decision and it just happened. My involvement was…
She pulled the squelchy mass down.

“OK Dean, I’m going to clean you up, then rub in some lotion, powder and fit a diaper… any questions?”
I just shrugged. I was in a sort of dream world, which I knew I liked but at that moment found particularly alien.

#

She had me lie out on a low table, which I wasn’t sure could support my weight but, as she’d covered the entire thing in a loose piece of blue absorbent paper (I’d seen something similar on the doctor’s examination table), I did as I was told.
“Good boy,” she said as I climbed up, my naked lower half reacting to the cool air conditioning of her office.
“Now I’ll just check the bag and see what mommy, er, Miss Marsden has brought.”
Jeans, a clean shirt, socks and a fresh pair of boxers were laid out on another table, eventually she found what she was searching for, a fresh disposable.
“Ah, here we go.”

She slowly and meticulously unfurled it and slipped it under my bottom. There was a look of understanding on her face and it suddenly struck me that she might know of my parent’s dramatic death and was being sympathetic. She then reached for some wipes, lotion and powder, which she conscientiously applied to my hair-free pubic area before fastening me in.
I’m not sure how many fourteen year-old boys she’d had to diaper in her time as a nurse but as she cleaned me up I thought she smiled and nodded approval at my a/c shrunken pee-pee and hairless genital area.

“Mmmm sensible… and no sign of a rash… good, good.” She said half to herself and half to me.
She smoothed in the lotion and my pee-pee began to react but, like the ladies at Rainbow, it was completely ignored as she pulled the disposable into place. Any raging hormones that a healthy teenage boy might have were dismissed as I was really just a ‘little boy’ so treated as such.
Once I was tightly enclosed she delved into the bag once more and found a pair of opaque plastic pants, which she shuffled up my legs. She did it all with such care that I found myself relaxing and beginning to enjoy her attention. After that was completed she had me sit up and checked that everything fitted correctly; smoothing the plastic pants down over the diaper and making sure I was well tucked in and leak-proof.

#

She stood back to appreciate her work and smiled. Whether that was because of a job well done or the fact that my slinky plastic pants could be seen dangling below my polo shirt I wasn’t too sure.
“OK Dean,” she seemed satisfied, “put the rest of your clothes back on and put the wet stuff in this plastic bag.”
She indicated a black bin bag on another table.
“Sit over there and wait until the principal and your mommy, er, Miss Marsden finish their conversation.”
Perhaps she wasn’t being sympathetic about the death of my parents, maybe she thought she was dealing with a teenager who was somewhat ‘challenged’. She spoke to me as if I was slow, or a toddler and I moved from enjoying the process to resenting it a bit.
Although I was happier now I was padded and protected I wondered about how late I was for my first class. What excuse could I come up with? What did anyone know? Had anyone noticed? What, if anything, has Oliver said? Perhaps more importantly, would anyone notice my padded butt?
“Don’t I need to be in class?” I queried.
“Yes you do but the principal will need to have a word before you go.”
“Ohhh.”

#

Ten minutes later and auntie emerged from the principal’s office looking worried.
“Are you OK sweetie?” She was concerned about me.
I nodded and looked down at my padded crotch and shrugged.
Nurse Jefferson smiled and said that I’d been a very co-operative boy and that everything had been taken care of and, if the principal had finished with me, I needed to get to class.
There was a slight rustling sound as I got to my feet and auntie hugged me and patted my cushioned bottom. She rubbed it slightly and I felt most reassured by both the padding and auntie’s tender touch.

She looked at me and said we’d talk when I got home. I was a bit apprehensive as it looked like she had something serious to say but getting to my new class was made a priority as the principal’s secretary came out with a note I had to give to the teacher.

#

“Sorry I’m late sir,” I handed Mr Brown the note, “I’m afraid I had to see the principal first…”
I wanted to say more, to come up with a plausible excuse but he just nodded to a seat next to Oliver and thanked me for being polite.
I hadn’t realised I had been but I suppose, even after all this time, the manners and attitude of an English private school, had some effect.
A chorus of derision from a few of the students followed Mr Brown’s compliment, which thankfully drowned out the rustling noise my protection made as I sat down. Oli was all smiles as he passed me a photocopied timetable list of subjects and extra-curricular activities and again I got the impression he completely understood.

#

After such a god awful start to the day I have to say, it got better. When I say it got better, I mean nobody noticed, or if they did they didn’t say anything, so from then on, for me it was a pretty good first day.

Now I was over my initial shock of seeing Oliver/Colin I realised that they weren’t all that alike after all although they were dressed similarly. I have to say Oli looked great in his shorts, his young blond hairy legs showed he was maturing way faster than I was. In fact, because of the special lotion auntie used at bath time, all my bodily hair had vanished. Next to Oli I looked like a little immature five year-old but it didn’t seem to worry him and we spent most of the day in each other’s company.
Motioning towards his t-shirt I asked him if he was a fan of AC/DC. He just shrugged and said he liked the logo but had to admit he wasn’t keen on their music although his father was a huge fan. He confessed that he, his brother and sister grew up in a house that was filled with rock music. Even as a baby he fell asleep to the riffs of Motorhead, AC/DC and most heavy metal bands his dad played all the time. Apparently his parents had met at a rock festival in their home town and he was a result of that first drug-fuelled night of metal debauchery. Thankfully his mom and dad were “really into each other” (his words) so they married two months before he was born.
He was very enthusiastic about his parents saying that they’d never had two dimes to rub together but both worked hard and brought up him, his younger brother and sister, pretty well.

#

It was great for me to hear somebody who actually liked his parents and not only that was vocal about it. On that first day I learned so much about Oliver but every time he asked about my life I slunk into babbling and avoiding the subject apart from telling him I now lived with my auntie and that I’d moved from DC. Not quite AC/DC but halfway there, I pathetically joked!
I simply wasn’t sure what to tell him. I doubted he’d be interested in hearing about life at a private school in England, I was positive he wouldn’t want to know about my ‘super important’ parents and I definitely wasn’t sure I could share my diaper wearing ways with him. Because he hadn’t mentioned it I assumed he didn’t know, or hadn’t noticed, the bulkiness in my jeans. However, just as I was boarding my bus he patted my bottom and smiled.
“Perhaps tomorrow you’ll tell me about this?”
I was stunned but his effortless grin said I should trust him… and why wouldn’t I? So far he’d saved me from total embarrassment and he’d appeared to have kept my secret. So, my journey home was filled with thoughts about just what I wanted to explain the following day… and did I in fact want to share any of this information?

This story is written by Les Lea

You can find more story’s like this one posted on My ABDL Life. The only thing you need to do is to check out this page to find them.

Chapter 8

Chapter 10

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Mall n’ Stall

Mall n' Stallgibsonscratch bamboozled me in the store. He can laugh now but I will have my revenge soon enough.

Furrys in this drawing belongs to BetaBrothers and gibsonscratch

Draw by catmonkshiro

Source: http://www.furaffinity.net/view/29311333/

Yes this sure is one blushing embarrassing situation here. Standing here in the middle of the store whit a well used diaper that have start leaking to. To make things worse you even starting to notes that you start wetting your diaper even more.

This two furry sure is wearing soggy well used diaper and they should leave a trail behind them when they walk away from the diaper section.

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All the way, Daddy’s Boy

The room was small, but quaint, with pale blue walls that reminded Max of the color of the sky in august, misted by hazy clouds. He smiled at that. The color was a little boyish. But, he hadn’t been able to repaint. Tom and Greg had been clear on that. They said that Mr. Jeremy Butler, the landlord, was very strict. Two months extra rent for repainting! And, they argued, Max was the youngest and newest – still a sophomore – so he chose last.

He had moved in last week, joining Tom and Greg, Seniors who had been there for 3 years. He had lived in Chandice Hall last year, a dorm building from the 1940s that could barely be called a dorm. Honestly, if it wasn’t torn down within the decade, it was in danger of falling down. By spring Max had decided to move off campus, and he heard that Tom and Greg were looking for a new roommate. They lived in an enviable 4 bedroom on a cul-de-sac a couple miles from campus. It was a ranch, all brick, in the post-war style. The house was low and flat, with a large yard and big, towering pines. The guys held barbeques in the summer.

Max stood up from his twin beg, stretching out his torso into a long sinuous arch, curling his toes and fingers. Just as his fingers hit their apex, his right hand rolled down brushing the top of his short cropped hair, and he rubbed his neck. He hitched his left hand in his boxers, which were loose and low. What a fucking color. He thought for the 100th time. Pale, baby blue. Oh well.

He looked morosely down at his short twin bed. Not much better. But, a twin was the only think that would fit in here, and it was a modified twin. Coated with annoying, crinkling, plastic! His dresser hadn’t fit, either, so he was using the built in wall drawers which lined one side of the room. Oddly, above these there was a seem in the wall, and a large thick wooden slat flipped down as a desk. A super long desk, Max thought again. Whatever. Greg had told him this was the office and the owner was an architect. He shrugged mentally.

Max stripped, pulling on a pair of tight spandex briefs. He cupped his goods. Nice package, he thought and smiled to himself, my body is amaaazing, and he giggled at the self-flattery. He slipped on his jeans, and pulled on a faded green t-shirt. He stopped by the hall bathroom to brush his teeth and wash his face on the way to the kitchen. He arrived to find Greg standing on the table. He looked up in consternation.

“What the hell is going on in here” he grumbled, with the tones of sleep still rounding the edges of his words.

Greg looked back, turning his muscled torso 90 degrees left, and flicked his head, and caught Max with his eyes. He was wearing only cut off painters shorts he had created from last year kakhis. He tilted his head, his floppy brown hair tilting to the side.

“Yeah. Light needs changing” he stated matter-of-factly. Greg was a no-nonsense guy. “Hand me that wire, would you Max”

“Sure” Max responded, picking up the wire and passing it up. “Where’s Tom?”

“Oh. He went to class about an hour ago. That history class he, um the …” Greg paused as he stuck out his tongue in concentration, wiring a connection while balancing the light. “ahhh. Got it. Um, the one he needs for his major. the one he’s always complaining about…. Italian history, I think”

“Oh yeah, yeah” Max paused, pouring himself a bowl of cereal. “Hey, Greg, you know that mattress of mine is really annoying. I mean it could wake the dead, man. And, it feels like I’m sleeping on a stiff plastic tarp – you know the camping ones? Its slick, crinkly. Super fucking annoying. I gotta change it.”

Greg stepped down from the table, having completed his task. On the ground, the height difference between Greg and Max was more obvious. Greg was 6 foot 2 inches, 190 lbs with broad shoulders. Max wasn’t tiny. He wasn’t! Max frowned at his own thought, and looked down at himself as if to re-enforce this. His Dad always said he was the tallest in their family! But at 5 foot 6 inches, and 150 lbs, he was slim and small compared to Greg. It made their 2 year age difference – 22 to 19 – seem much greater than it was. Although, he had heard rumors that Greg was older, he couldn’t confirm it.

“Max, buddy. You know we can’t get rid of Jeremy’s stuff, and we cant store it.” He glared “That was a condition of moving in. And, that’s part of the reason you’re paying so little”

Max sighed, and rolled his eyes dramatically. Whatever. He was never going to be able to find such affordable housing near campus. He grabbed his green book bag, slung it over his shoulder, and headed out, calling bye to Greg as he scampered out the door. Greg smiled faintly at the back of the closed door, and headed down to the 4th bedroom in the basement to get some supplies. The beginning of the process was always so much fun, Greg thought.

Max returned home to see his Dad in Septermber for a long weekend. The bus sucked. It was long, boring, and the guy next to him smelled like a garbage bag! Yuuuuuck. And, the bus had no bathroom, so the last 2 hours of the trip Max was certain he was going to piss himself. He sprinted off that bus and straight to the restroom. He had never been so happy to see a urinal in his life!

Weekend with Dad was great, but oddly, he didn’t sleep so well. He had started sleeping naked most nights in the last month depending on the temperature. It seemed that his room was really hot; much warmer then the rest of the house. And, somehow the fucking slick, crinkly, plastic sheet on his mattress stayed a little cooler, and so if he had his skin on it, it felt a little better. Max imagined he was quite a site: sleeping buck naked with no sheets on the plastic lined mattress. Oh well. It felt good. Anyways, at Dads the mattess just felt hot and soft. Weirdly, he had trouble sleeping on it.

On Sunday night, his Dad had noticed his fatigue, and asked. He reported dutifully about his new mattress in his rental room, and how it was odd to sleep on this one.

“You mean, plastic? Like, slick thick cold plastic encasing the mattress?” His dad asked, enthusiastically, his voice brimming with containing mocking humor.

Max answered slowly, fearing a trap “Uh, yeah. Just like that. It covered the whole thing. You cant even get it off”

His Dad threw back his head and laughed uproariously, a loud booming laugh. When the laughed turned to a chuckle he started: “That’s a mattress protector.” When Max looked over blankly he continued “Like, for a kid who wets his bed. Like pisses in it. You know, like pees in the bed…. so the piss doesn’t soak in just runs…”

Max cut him off “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Thanks. I get it” he simmered. I guess for some reason Jeremy had a bed wetter mattress installed in his rental house. Fuck. And, Max couldnt get rid of it. Max groaned inwardly as his dad continued giggling. It didn’t occur to either of them to wonder if Greg or Tom know the purpose of the mattress.

The next week proceeded uneventfully. Max resigned himself to sleeping on the mattress, and strangely he enjoyed getting back to it. “I liked it before I knew its purpose, why should I change now?” Max thought.

It wasn’t until the start of October that things began getting weird. After it all went down, when Max became thoughtful, indeed, when he thought at all, he would think back to that week in particular. A cascade of events can start from such a random, little thing. Or, was it random?

In late September, Toms Grandma Jean came to visit them for a week. It was torture. Jean was 82, imperious, demanding, and set in her ways. Tom was running around the entire week. Max tried his best not to be at home at all. He would arrive late at night, drinking, studying, whatever. He would enter the house quietly and approach the fridge, quickly stealing food and drink, and taking it back to his room.

It so happened that on Monday he took a water bottle with an “JS” on top – or so he was later told. Grandma Jean apparently had trouble swallowing pills, and would melt her medications in water, and then drink the bottle.

It doesn’t matter what was in the bottle; Tom was never able to tell him that, and Jean didn’t really know. Some combination of her meds she said. Max went to sleep that night, and when he woke up next, he was naked, cold. Tom and Greg were both standing over him. He felt the air on his skin. As usual he was on his bed, naked, lying on the plastic coated mattress. He squirmed, and looked up at them.

“Stop it!” Tom ordered, looking down, his blond hair spiked.

“Not again” Greg groaned simultaneously, sticking his hand under Max’s cold butt and tilting him to the side. Max barely reacted, but groaned. His hand feels so warm. Max could tell that Greg’s hand emerged glistening, wet, and a dribble ran down his forearm. He cursed loudly “Fucking piss soaked” and ran out of the room, while muffled the rest of his sentence.

Max struggled for coherence. His brain wrestled to make sense of the situation.

He hesitated and then lifted his head and looked down at his thin, tanned body. His lower abs and crotch and upper thighs were wet and shining, and there was a small puddle under his butt. He could smell it clearly. It was the shared smell of a urinal, a boy’s locker room, and a baby’s used diaper; it was stale urine. He groaned. The urine puddled under his butt, held out of the mattress by the plastic protector sheet. He lifted his hand to his chest, and unknowingly, he brought piss with it, and felt the piss run down his chest. Max was groggy. He wanted to cry. He looked up at Tom, who smoothed back his hair in a protective gesture.

“Let’s get you cleaned up” Tom declared. He began to roll Max to the side and toweled off under his butt. Max fell in and out of sleep, eventually waking up again in the morning. He could barely tell if that nights activities were a dream or not. But, from the smell of his room – still vaguely urine-tinged – he knew it was no dream. Remembering Tom and Greg seeing him piss-soaked and naked, he blushed red as he stood up and pulled on his boxers.

For several days thereafter, Max was groggy and tired. He was almost too sick to think. Greg threatened to take him to a doctor, but he just shrugged it off. The meds will pass he thought. Jean had long since left.

To his dismay, he continued to wake up in a wet bed. And, he was not pissing a little, but a lot. He would wake up with he naked butt in puddles of hot urine on the mattress. The air fresheners that Tom had strung up in his room did little to cover the scent. Greg and Tom were real sports about it. On the 5th day, when Max ran out of boxers, Tom lend him a small pair of his. On Friday, he woke up in the early morning hours, feeling again the piss around his crotch. He was laying face down on his mattress, and the piss extended up to his chest. He started sobbing. How had this happened to him? He had never pissed the bed! He sat up, and some of the urine sloshed onto the floor, which made him cry even harder.

That was how Greg found him, crying, naked, half covered in piss. Greg said nothing, but, walked slowly towards him and enfolded him in a powerful hug apparently disregarding the fact that urine was now covered Greg too.

“Shhhhh. Don’t cry Max. Shhhhh” he cooed as Max sobbed against his chest, heaving and shaking. “We’ll fix this buddy. Don’t worry” he continued in a low, calm voice, as if soothing a puppy. At some point he began to stroke the back of Max’s head, and Max’s sobs trailed off as he nestled his head against Toms warm neck. That morning, he followed Toms instructions as he was told to shower and get dressed. Maybe Tom could fix this mess, Max thought optimistically. Tom and Greg seemed like such good guys.

Weeks later, Max would have trouble recalling who first suggested the diapers. In truth, it may have been no one, or anyone. One day, he woke up in his puddle of urine, cold, shivering. And, the next day, in the afternoon, he found, at the foot of his closet, an unopened pack of adult diapers. He torn open the pack, and unfolded one. It was large (larger then he would have expected!) and thick, but soft. He needn’t have opened the pack. His underwear drawer was generously stocked with the folded diapers. The filled most of his underwear drawer, and his boxers had been stuffed in the side and in the next drawer down.

He mentioned these in passing to Tom and Greg; it was not a conversation really, but more of an acknowledgment; as if to say, I found these. The both nodded, studiously avoiding the issue. Only that night while they were all seated in the living room watching TV, did Greg say, “Remember to get one of those diapers on before bed, Max” Max looked over, but Greg had gone back to watching the show, as if the issue deserved no more comment. And, maybe it didn’t. Max had a problem, and the diapers were a simple solution. He tried to be a man about it.

That night, he put one on for the first time. He had unfolded one on the bed, fully open it took up a fair portion of the twin bed. He stripped to nothing and laid down butt first on the diaper. It took some doing, but he folded it up in place over his dick and crotch, securing the tapes. He closed his legs slowly, feeling the dense mass of stuffing that covered his butt, balls, and cock keeping his legs apart. It gave some when he brought his legs together, bunching and pushing out in the front. But, the mass was still present. He could almost feel how dry, and thirsty it was.

He stood up gingerly, feeling the diaper move with him. He moved carefully to his closet, as if the thick bundle around his crotch could break, but really, he moved slowly to lessen the creeping humiliation he felt. It is this way when a toddler first walks? He thought, the thick diaper making the act awkward and halting. Max was surprised but pleased to find a pair of baggy PJ bottoms to pull over the diaper, even if they were covered by baseballs in a too-boyish style. He hadn’t worn these in years.

When he emerged back out to sit on the couch and watch TV, the only mention of his new attire was a jest: “Max, you take the seat with the warn out cushion – you got extra padding!” Tom cracked, to Greg’s delight.

The next morning, no one was surprised to find that Max had wet himself at night. Tom and Greg were up remarkably early, and Max’s door was open when he awoke. His stirring brought Tom and Greg both to the room, to stand over his bed. That would have been more unusual a couple months ago, but given his recent bed wetting, they seemed to be in his room nearly every morning. They stood shoulder to shoulder at the foot of his bed, both shirtless, as they often were; Greg had his fingers lightly on Toms waist.

Max’s PJ bottoms has slipped low in the night, and his diaper was mostly bare. Before Max could ask why Greg was touching Tom, Greg reached down and used one of his index fingers to tug them down the rest of the way, revealing the diaper totally. It was a mottled grey-yellow, indented and deformed. It looked nothing like the night before. Although none of the boys were used to seeing wet diapers, they knew that was what this way: a diaper used to capacity. Tom’s lips turned up in the corner, an almost smile.

“Looks like that diaper did its job chief” he declared. With that, Tom turned and walked out. Greg lingered, watching his diaper crotch just a little too long. Max looked at Greg awkwardly.

“Greg, do you need something?” Max asked quietly. Greg started.

“No, no” he said as he walked out of the small blue room.

At first, the used diapers went in the bathroom garbage. But, Greg soon complained about the smell. Even when Max folded them up well, they did smell. Soon, there was a garbage, really a diaper-pail, in the corner of his blue bedroom. At first, it was odd for Max to see his used diapers day after day. They were balled up tight, but yellow, used. They smelled faintly of piss, and his room did too. Nothing severe.

Max couldn’t tell if it was better or worse when he found a nursery-sent nightlight in his room after returning from class. Tom had good fun with him about it, but defended it by saying that Amazon had only small repository of get-rid-of-diaper-smell items, and they all were babyish. Indeed, Tom said he had tried to google “get rid of diaper smell” and “adult” in the same sentence, and got nothing. Oh well.

By that Christmas break that year, Max was wearing diapers every night regularly, and without thought. A couple times he stopped to wonder if the meds that he had involuntarily taken from Jean would wear off, or why they hadn’t. But, he didn’t dwell on this too much. Whenever he got the thought in his mind, it would slip away, fleeting.

The last order of diapers had been 2 cases – 100 in total. He had blanched slightly when they arrived, but they were cheaper this way, and Greg had helped him split the cost. Those diapers, when unpacked, had filled a couple drawers and lined several shelves extra.

Max decided to stay in town for Christmas while Greg and Tom when home. He hadn’t wanted to confront his Dad with his night-time-diapers. It seemed simpler this way. Those were the first days he started wearing diapers during the day. It started simply. One lazy morning he decided to eat before changing out of his diaper. Being familiar with the capcity of these diapers, he could tell now that this wet diaper could handle more. And, he had recently wet. It was warm, almost cozy. He squirted a little more piss into his diaper during breakfast. He thought about his diapers more recently. While at the kitchen table eating his oatmeal, he rubbing himself through the front of his diaper, feeling the soggy warm heavy diaper rub against his hard dick. Damn, he thought. That felt goooood. Pretty quickly, while eating, he cam into the front of his diaper. He rocked his crotch forward, clamping down on the spoon in his mouth. He felt the hot cum squirt out in his wet diaper. When he was done he panted slightly, and began to get up. He stopped, and laughed. There was no reason to get up. No cleanup. Oh shit; that was certainly a benefit to wearing diapers. He thought, remembering normal clean-up when he used to jack off. He careless rubbed his post-climax dick again through the diaper, shuddering.

That morning, at almost noon, he changed out of his wet diaper and into a dry one. He defended it to himself. He was going to be home all day. It was like wearing at night. And, there were so many diapers in his room, who would notice a missing one.

By the time Tom and Greg both returned from winter break, Max had been wearing diapers non-stop for almost 2 weeks. He would push them down to shit still, but wouldn’t really even clean himself up as much as he used to. It was a diaper, right? He’d think as he pulled the wet diaper from around his ankles after he shit. The guys got home at night, and it was not unexpected that Max was wearing, although he greeted them in just his diaper and short socks, which made them both grin broadly.

But, Max had not counted on how many diapers he had gone through. The next morning, Greg noted that almost 60 diapers had been used since before they left.

“Max, that’s like 4 per day, buddy” Greg said sternly for the 4th or 5th time. Max looked down. He had used every excuse he could think of, and the only thing left to him was the truth.

“Well, I’ve been wearing the diapers during the day. All day.” Max intoned, very slowly, pronouncing every word as if they were fragile strange things. Greg looked at him, sitting on the side of the bed – the sheet crinkling with his movements – his diaper wet, bulging at his crotch. It did not occur to Max to be embarrassed at his used diaper.

And, surprisingly, Greg smiled. He ruffled his hand through Max’s hair. “Look. Diapers are cheap. We can get more. Use as many as you want. If you want to wear all the time, Tom and I will totally support that” Greg said. As if on cue, Tom peaked his head it, and yelped “We sure will!” and then continued down the hall.

Max realized two things that day. He did feel more comfortable wearing diapers during he day. But, his clothes did not fit well over them. He had spent the holiday break at home, and now he was confronted with the prospect of going to class in diapers. He went through jeans, khakis, shorts. In all of them, the diaper was woefully obvious at least to his nervous eyes. He examined himself in the mirror again, his j-crew Khakis over his diaper… the diaper contour stretching the confines of his crotch and butt, and worse still, it rustled loudly, and peaked up above the too-low waist band.

Max eventually settled on sweat pants, through which the diaper was somewhat concealed in the folds of extra cloth. To his surprise, when he arrived in the kitchen that morning, Tom had packed him a lunch for class in a paper bag. He stuffed it into his bookbag and grinned as Tom slapped him on his diapered ass. He barely registered that Gregs hand came up and cradled Toms neck as he was walking out the door.

Those weeks, in the early winter were both easy and careless. Max was often seen around campus in his navy blue sweat pants, paired with all manner of t-shirts or Henley’s and an accompanying jacket. Some students who sat beside him swore he smelled odd, musky, stale. Others noticed nothing. Similarly, some talked about his growing crotch or enlarging butt. There were rumors, but they only skirted the truth. The rumors rarely reached Max’s ears. When Greg or Tom heard about them, they fed the rumors slightly, obliquely. The word diaper was only mentioned in passing, hushed whispers.

For himself, Max slept soundly at night and romped during the day. He was surprisingly happy. His thoughts had become strangely simplified. Sometimes he almost thought that his thought-process had become more child-like. He had altered his routine somewhat to accommodate the diapers, but that was greatly outweighed by the added security and comfort he got from them. This joy was not lost on Greg and Tom.

It was early in March when Max noticed that his closet was strangely empty. It was true that he was wearing only a small selection of clothes, but still, he was momentarily taken aback by the empty shelves and naked hangers. He was back early. He has stripped out of his sweats to get them a much needed wash, and was in a white printed t and his diaper, which was slightly used, and hung a little low on his waist. Greg returned from class first to find Max in the living room watching TV and having a beer.

“Hey Greg” Max voiced “What’s with my closet?”

Greg barely noticed Max as he was unpacking his book bag. “Tom and I took the clothes to good will this morning. You cant wear most of them anymore. The better pieces Tom took to consignment to get some extra money to buy you new shit.” He reported matter-of-factly as if stating a fact that did not concern Max.

“Oh” Max paused, taking in this news. “Well, I guess I could use some new clothes” he looked up at the TV as if nothing had happened, and took another sip of his beer. If Tom was going to get him a new wardrobe, great. Nice to have some more pants, he thought philosophically while looking down at his bare legs and exposed diaper. Prior to dinner, when Tom and Greg were in the kitchen, Max was sitting at the table chatting with them. He stood up slowly, and began to walk to the bathroom. Something in the way he walked, slightly bow legged, set Tom off. He walked so much like a toddler.

“He buddy” Tom called conspiratorially “Where you going?”

Max looked back. Strange. The hadn’t been this interested in his comings and goings before. He rubbed his flat stomach absent mindedly, and ran a hand along the waist band of his diaper. His stomach groaned, and he felt the familiar pressure building. “I’m heading to the bathroom Tom” he reported, turning to walk.

“Stop!” Tom ordered, brokering no argument. “Greg and I have been talking. We think we’re spending almost $300 per month on your diapers. And, we think you should use them fully. Its just not fair” he reasoned “its like you’re throwing away half our money”

Max stopped, puzzled. Weird argument. He dismissed them and turned to head to the bathroom. He didn’t expect Greg to tackle him, pushing him onto the plush carpet, wrestling him to the ground playfully. They tousled for a couple minutes, laughing at the unexpected physicality of it.

Max was abruptly brought to the present when he felt the pressure in his stomach surge. He had a critical need to shit. He yelped this to Greg in a semi-strangled voice. Greg remained straddles across him, holding his arms to the floor. “Let me up Greg, I really, really gotta go” Max whined again, high pitched, which squirming.

Greg paused, looking down. He mercilessly pressed a fist slowly into Maxes flat stomach. Max groaned audibly. Greg jumped off him as Max flipped over to his stomach and got himself up on his knees. His lips drew back from his teeth in nether a smile nor a grimace. Very slowly, he levered his butt out and up, his head down but his face out. Greg was kneeling beside him, and slipped a hand under the back of his t-shirt, rubbing his back from neck down to diaper butt.

He locked eyes with Max and spoke carefully. “Don’t hold back Max. It’s OK. Do it.” In that moment, Max didn’t push – no – he simply let go the effort of holding back. And, with that, his bowels rumbled out into his waiting diaper. They filled his diapered seat. This was so much more then wetting. He thought as he felt the hot slimy mess fill his diaper and felt it continue coming out of him. Some part of him was conscious that he wet at the same time. As he continued soiling himself, he broke eye contact with Greg and closed his eyes. His diaper butt felt heavy, and sagged low between his legs.

He eventually laid down on the floor, somehow exhausted. He was all too conscious of the full diaper he wore. Full in every sense. He felt it – warm, wet, and heavy. He smelled it. When he moved it shifted. His cheeks blushed bright red as he thought about what he had done, what he was wearing. He looked up at Tom and Greg who now stood over him… his voice was almost tearful, “I shit in my diaper” he whispered, voice quavering.

That was when he discovered another use for the large levered desk in his room. Greg took him there, walking him gingerly. Tom and Greg had made clear he could not change himself out of this diaper. The “desk” flopped down out of the wall, and Max was stunned to see Tom quickly unfold a cushioned printing plastic mat. Even in his shocked state, standing in his full diaper, he looked at the board, covered in the white plastic mat printed with baseballs, mitts, and bats,

His eyes widened as he looked at Greg, “This is, uh, this is a baby changing table” He said. The sheltered cubbies in the wall were filled with diaper changing supplies; baby oil, and baby powder. Pampers wipes.

Greg paternalistically rubbed Max on the head. “No, buddy, its not a baby changing table. Its a changing table for adults who wear diapers” He reported. With that, he put his strong hands at Max’s waist and hoisted him onto the table, plopping him down on his butt. Max started. The force of him landing pushed his shit all over his backside, making him newly aware of his diaper. Strangely, his cock became hard.

Tom appeared, and pulled off his shirt, and pushed him flat onto his back. In the hours after, Max tried to forget the humiliation of that 15 minutes. He laid on that table with his butt in the air, and the smell of his shit, while Greg cleaned his butt and Tom rubbed his chest and soothed him. He cried softly through much of the change, but his dick remained hard. Greg teased him as he put him back into a dry diaper, this time liberally applying baby oil. When he stood up, he noticed that the baby oil and powder lent him a much more infantile smell.

It was no less then 2 months later that the first diaper-messing seemed a distant, foreign memory to Max. He tried to remember how and why it had felt so strange; this was the most natural of impulses. Letting go. He did it easily now. It just came out into his diaper. Wetting or messing. It was a diaper. It was to be used. He has wet and messed himself at breakfast yesterday, and told Tom this thought. Tom had praised him.

“Yeah, of course, Max. For you, using you diaper is and should be the most natural thing in the world. Its the same way for all little boys” Max lifted up his chin and grinned at Toms praise. It meant a lot to him, to have Tom or Greg praise him. He would glow for hours afterwards.

True to his word, Tom had stocked his closet with clothes that were much better suited to his attire. His jeans now were double stiched with a wide crotch and elastic waist. He had a couple pairs of overalls. Greg had even bought him a onsie recently, saying it was like an undershirt, but better for hiding his diaper. He cringed a little at that recent memory. It seemed more than a little infantile when Greg had snapped that onsie over his diaper. But, he did enjoy the way it had pushed up the diaper against his cock. He became hard just thinking about it. And, the diaper didn’t peak over his pants when he wore them. Practical, Max thought.

Around the house, Max had noticed small changes. Nothing he could put his finger on. He complained to Tom once, and even to his own ears, it sounding like the whining of a spoiled child. The chairs in the kitchen were being changed out, and while Tom and Greg used the two remaining wooden ones, Max was stuck with a smaller plastic one that had a seat belt in it. Of course, the guys never used the belt on him. But, the chair was small, blue and red, with high arms. And, it took him a couple days, but he noticed that he was always drinking out of plastic cups now with lids and straws.

When he mentioned it, Tom laughed “Its nothing. We’re just short on glass cups.” He almost complained when Greg wiped his mouth after dinner, but held himself back. Greg was so gentle with it, so caring, cupping the back of his head and gently wiping the wet wipe over his mouth. And, it felt nice to be touched like that by Greg.

Also, he couldn’t tell if it was just him, but Max noticed that Tom and Greg were increasingly touching or holding each other. Simple hugging, or having arms around each other. The other night, on the couch, Max was in his new onsie and diaper, and sitting on the floor with his back to the couch, and he looked up to see Tom lying with Gregs legs straddling him. When Max looked at them, they smiled and Tom winked. He shrugged, and went back to watching TV.

Max’s last day of class was in the first week of June. He was in his overalls, which he liked wearing now. They were blue-jean color, and cut slightly large. He wore a red onsie underneath them. Tom came with him to class sometimes now, and was with him today. He sat beside Tom in the back row. He set his backpack down by his feet. His sneakers were big, white hightops. He was quite wet, and knew it now that he felt his diaper, although he barely remembered wetting. He whispered this to Tom, who shrugged. He knew that the bathroom in the Carmichael building was a pissing trough with no privacy, and a couple small stalls. There was no place to change a diaper. Max silently cursed when he felt the need to mess half way through lecture. He tugged on Toms sleeve.

It was no use. While the professor talked about early agrarian economies, Max succumbed and soiled his diaper badly, feeling the hot mess and squirting piss assail his diaper simultaneously. Soon, the dirty diaper smell became obvious.

“Did you mess?” Tom queried, grimacing “Phewy, that stinks. Lift up, stinky butt, let me see. It smells like you leaked.” Max lifted his butt slightly for Tom, who saw the damp crescents across the back his butt. “Damn it! I knew we should have switched to those other diapers. Greg was right” Max dropped his head onto the desk, as nearby students started turning. In the preceding months, the rumors of a diaper-wearing student had solidified, and were now commonly known.

“Max, did you fucking mess you diaper again, baby?” a loud mouthed frat guy hooted from 2 rows in front. “I can smell that shit from here. Daddy’s gonna have to get you changed” he laughed, as a chorus of other students joined in giggling nervously and looking at Max. Kyle a sophomore seated beside Tom, was less forgiving.

“Damn it. It smells like a diaper-baby-fucking-nursery here. If you’re still wetting and shitting your diapers like a baby maybe you should be in nursery school and not a college seminar, and let us adults concentrate?” Kyle lectured.

To the sound of laughs, Max walked out of the lecture hall, his wet and messy diaper obvious as Tom walked beside him.

After that episode in lecture, the changes came quickly for Max throughout that spring and summer.

He was already diapered all the time, and, after his original diapers leaked occasionally, Greg had switched him to thicker diapers. He had seen the ordering site; these were diapers only worn by completely incontinent men. They were loud, thick, and impossible to hide. In order to compensate, his wardrobe had changed radically. The onsies had multiplied. They were perfect for fitting over the thick diapers. They held them up, and in place. And, Greg liked to say, they prevented Max from tampering with his own diapers. As if Max was going to. He was perfectly content with Greg and Tom handling that.

The story of his soiling his diaper in class had become common knowledge. Their school was not large, and now it seemed that every student knew that Max wore diapers. This was a blessing and a curse. After initial mocking and taunting, students seems to let him be. It was for the best, since his diapers were not easily concealable under his clothes. He was mostly in overalls now when he went out. On some of the overalls, there were leg snaps so that Tom or Greg could get to his diaper easier. With the leg snaps and the onsie, he was surprised to realized they could change his diapers without undressing him.

In addition to his onsies, he had sleepers for overnight – long tight playful printed things which exaggerated the contour of his diaper butt and his thin toned limbs. For the day, he had slowly built up a collection of toddlerish clothes: rompers for in the house – loose garments in which he could play. Greg had also bought him some shortalls, which were mostly for inside, but he had endured an embarrassing trip to the park in them once, where, blessedly, he had not been seen. But, often, he was in just a diaper or a t-shirt and diaper.

The other changes were incremental. The desk-changing table came down permanently, with a baby-boy printed covering, and became a changing table in truth.

He first had a towel around his neck, then, when the towel grew dirty with his food, he was given a bib. His plastic chair with a belt became a larger chair with a tray, and then a lockable high chair. His plastic-covered cup became a sippy cup.

It was this way that Max found himself near the end of the summer. He had been home from classes for 2 months, and his life had become, in reality, that of a kid. Maybe even that of a toddler he thought. He still had say over his actions. But, he was, in some ways confined by his diaper and clothing. And, in truth, he needed the diapers now, and had come to enjoy them.

It was a morning in late summer when Max stumbled from his bed – still plastic sheet covered, but now with short railings. He was clad in a tight white onsie which had small barely visible soccer ball prints. This onsie covered his engorged diaper. He waddled more then walked into the hallway. Sounds down the hall caught his attention and he wandered to them, opening the door to Greg’s room. He paused at the door. Greg and Tom were both naked, kneeling, Greg straddling Tom from the back. Toms dick was hard. Greg was behind him. They both looked up at Max. Their skin was glistened with sweat.

“Hi boy” Greg voiced, throaty, husky. “You come to play with your daddies?” he asked. Max looked over, and felt his cock hard in his diaper. Greg looked at Max “You know that inflatable stuffed horse we got you? Go get it, come back” Max scampered through the house, returning moments later. “Mount it at the foot of the bed” Greg ordered, while Tom moaned.

Max sat down at the foot of the bed and straddled his horse. His wet diaper, bound by his onsie, pushed up mightily against his cock.

“Now ride it until you cum” Greg ordered, and he continued taking Tom from behind. Max moved his hips back and forth, while looking at Tom and Greg, and feeling his cock trapped, hard, in the wet diaper. He was about to cum when Tom reached forward and slipped something into his mouth. It was long and plastic, and Max felt the guard around his mouth. It was a large pacifier. He sucked and sucked and watched the men above him gyrating as his dick exploded into his waiting diaper. He continued humping and moaning as he fell forward.

Source: http://wenake.tumblr.com/post/148601700391/all-the-way-daddys-boy

You can find more story’s like this one posted on My ABDL Life. The only thing you need to do is to check out this page to find them.

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Demoted

Demoted

Looks like I have a new job role. And I’m only being paid in DIAPERS! GAAAHHH

The cat and text by BabyPandora

Draw by BabyStar

Source: http://www.furaffinity.net/view/27776802/

Aww poor thing it sure seems like she is going to have a new job role in the company but it sure dont seems to like the situation. I sure wounder how she is going to do in here new job situation. She sure seems to be fit for the task but maybe she needs to wear some thicker diaper?

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Leaking in the forest

Leaking in the forestThe leaking bunny belongs to danielmania123

Draw by ConejoBlanco

Source: http://www.furaffinity.net/view/26060325/

At least she is outside in the forest when here diaper decided to start leaking.

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